Dreams of Dust in Jerusalem

Part of my job as Hans' wife is to remind him of all kinds of obscure anniversaries. Such as May 22 -- I call it The-Universe-Stopped-and-I-Fell-in-Love-with-You Day. Today, October 15, is one of the big ones. The fifth anniversary of our engagement. Hans calls it You-Said-it-was-OK-to-Ask-You-to-Marry-Me Day.

I've mentioned elsewhere that I did not want a diamond. So instead, Hans proposed to me with seven gifts. (Sweet, right?) We took many walks together that weekend. I showed him my favorite streets in New Haven.

For two hours, he proposed, over pizza. Thin-crust. Brick oven. Bacon and Onion on one side, Eggplant Parmesan on the other. I said yes -- to both the pizza and the proposal.

The first of the gifts was my ESV Bible;
My favorite was the promise of a trip to Israel, together.

Being Malaysian, my passport explicitly states that I am not allowed entry into Israel. I used to joke around about how I would marry an American just for the passport.

I am not yet a US citizen; and with two little ones, this is hardly the time to travel such a distance. But, the hope is a joyful one, and I can hardly wait.

Meanwhile, we dream.

Standing on the Mount of Olives,
walking under the trees of Gethsemane,
covered with the dust of Jerusalem,
catching a storm by the Sea of Galilee.
I close my eyes and see him
talking to fishermen, playing with children.
My foolish heart imagines
that he would somehow be nearer -- there.

Until then, I will miss Jerusalem.
Happy to be on the road, with you.

Happy engagement anniversary, darling.
Thank you for dreaming with me.